She won’t wake up
She won’t wake up
She won’t wake up
She lays there in a carcass of pasty white skin
With sunken closed eyes and a dark mind from within
On the nightstand empty plastic orange bottles and powdered pills are thrown in disarray
Anyone could see she left her own living hell from the doorway
She won’t wake up
She won’t wake up
She won’t wake up
I knew she was gone from the stare she would give everyone, as though she was no longer in this dimension
“Get some help,” they all told her, but it was just a suggestion
She never was there to kiss us goodnight, take us to school, or cook any meals
But, if we ever believed she could provide that, our heads were clouded in ideals
She won’t wake up
She won’t wake up
She won’t wake up
“We never see her around anymore, is she okay? We can pray for her...” they’d ask
“She’s just sick, she’ll be back soon,” we’d say, but coming up with lies was such a task
She now gazes up at an endless universe of dimly lit stars that never shone for her
We’ll never know what it was that got her hooked, that will be too much to decipher
She won’t wake up
She won’t wake up
She won’t wake up
And she never will